marchofwarfandomcom-20200215-history
The Memories of Darkagma: The Vision
1st Kure SNLF Headquarters’ Commanding Office, The Void, ??? About 3 years and 9 months after the second Angelfall Darkagma woke up from his slumber and turned on the radio, in the same way he has been doing since being entombed in the Void. He opened his office's door, revealing the immovable Void in front of him, looking down on the Shogun with its aura of indifference. Darkagma convinced himself he had not awakened from his nightmare yet. The radio chatter from the League of Nations is still the same: new survivors showing up, how everyone has been and what they have been doing since the forceful ceasing of all military activities. Some believe that the world is actually not real: a simulation made by whimsical people whose funding had run out with their project being terminated soon afterwards. Evidently, Darkagma wouldn't believe that piece of pseudoscience in the slightest. Annoyed with the lack of purpose in staying awake, he decided to go back to napping. Perhaps he would just wake up in the next morning and laugh about the dumbest dream he has ever had while munching rice crackers over some tea with Akridd and ChinggisKhaan. Maybe he would wake up and continue supporting HurriKane in his African conquest while listening to HongKongPhooey's boasting of his latest victory against CommissarKenjii's Red Army, much to Harutora's annoyance. Darkagma sat on his office chair, hearing a loud cracking noise. Perhaps his chair has finally succumbed to old age, which would force the admiral of the Shogunate fleet to sit on the floor with a box of mandarin oranges as a desk for as long as he stayed trapped in his office. Reclining forward to stand up again, the Shogun shifted his eyes towards the opposite side of the office where the calendar was hanged, which made him stare in disbelief for a few minutes while bent forward. Darkagma looked down while shaking his head, disappointed with the belief that he had finally snapped. He leaned over his strategic world map he had on his desk, wanting to remember whatever he could of it before going completely insane. But something was off. Namibia was yellow, even though the Shogun Empire's African campaign was going swimmingly. Moscow was red, even though Field Marshal HongKongPhooey had paraded on its streets after crushing the Bolsheviks. Newfoundland was blue again despite the African invasion of Canada. No one could possibly have entered his office and changed the colors of the territories on the map. Darkagma was seriously considering committing ritual suicide to prevent himself from blurting out Imperial secrets through the radio in his madness, while being simultaneously annoyed by Zanzos' broadcasted critique about his unhealthy preferences for super-deformed blue cats and little hat girls coming from the radio. Accepting his fate with a bitter grin, Darkagma stood up, ready to draw his sword, when a loud crack was heard again, which he found out that it has actually been coming from the radio set all along. Darkagma woke up from his nap, escaping from a desperate world of darkness in his dreams. He looked around confused. The calendar read January 31st. The strategic map had no signs of red. Everything was exactly how it was for the past 3 years. Relieved that everything was just a figment of his imagination, Darkagma could finally relax, being strangely thankful of his current situation of being trapped for the foreseeable future in his office. Perhaps spending his days uselessly while listening to the League of Nations wasn't too bad. The radio was playing white noise. Maybe the cracking sound he heard in his nightmare was actually the radio breaking down. Getting up from his chair, Darkagma decided to have a look at the machine. As he came closer to it, he paid more attention to the sound coming from it. Puzzled, the Shogun slowly moved his ear closer to the loudspeaker, focusing all his remaining brain cells into them. - ...rain?